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Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (33 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]
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Johnny lingered, and a long silence ensued. He left the porch with the excuse he should check on the freezer.
“That was kind of Johnny.” Grant moved to sit in a chair near Karen.
“What do you mean?”
“He gave me a chance to talk to you.”
“You’ve been talking to me.” She spoke without looking at him.
“Not alone.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Karen drew in a shaky breath, aware that her heart was thumping beneath the bodice of the dress she had made especially to wear today. It had a round neck, puffed sleeves, and a circular skirt. The small blue-and-white-checked material was especially becoming, accenting her blond hair and blue eyes.
“Will you go with me to the picture show? I’m sure I can borrow the car.”
“There isn’t a picture show in Red Rock.”
“There’s one in Ringling.”
“That’s more than thirty miles.”
“We could just go for a ride if you’d rather do that.”
“When? Why?”
“Next Sunday afternoon. And because, well . . . I’d like to know you better. I think we could be . . . friends.”
“Why go to all the trouble? You’ll be moving on soon.”
“Maybe not.”
“I don’t think I should—”
“Do you think I’m some sort of flimflammer who’ll make promises, then run out on you?”
“It’s possible.” When no answer came, Karen pressed on stubbornly, refusing to be sidetracked. “Well. It is possible, isn’t it?”
“Anything is possible.” A bemused expression came over Grant’s face as he regarded her. “But it isn’t likely. I keep my word . . . if at all possible.”
“This is a silly conversation. I don’t expect you to
promise
me anything, so why are we discussing it?”
“I’m not the worthless bum you think I am.” He looked away, then back to meet her blue eyes with his.
Karen turned away from the sadness in his eyes and pushed the swing with one foot. While she waited for him to say more, she listened to the squeak of the chain and watched a june bug hovering over the bed of moss rose. A definite, almost tangible silence hung between them.
“Then what are you?” Karen asked, unable to bear the suspense.
“A man trying to find himself.”
“So you’re lost.”
“I was. Not now. About next Sunday—”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Fair enough,” Grant said, and looked toward the road as a car came into the yard.
“Well, glory be!” Karen stopped the swing with her foot. “It’s Christopher, and he’s brought Opal. Good for him!”
When Chris came to the porch, carrying Rosemary, he urged Opal along with his hand in the middle of her back. Henry Ann came out of the house to greet them.
“Opal! I’m so glad you came.”
“Howdy.”
“Do you know Karen?”
“Of course she knows me. Daddy baptized Rosemary. Hello, Opal. Hello, pretty thing. Oh, she’s still bashful,” Karen said, when the child hid her face against Chris’s shoulder.
Henry Ann introduced Grant and then Johnny when he came from the house. Opal murmured the polite responses, but said nothing more. She sat down in a bentwood rocker and reached for her little girl. Chris set Rosemary in her lap, then lowered himself to the step nearby. He seemed anxious that Opal be at ease. He knew that coming here and meeting his friends was difficult for her.
“We should have entertainment while we wait for the ice cream to harden.” Henry Ann looked at Chris. “Do you remember when you used to come over and sing with Daddy? I wish I’d told you to bring your guitar. I’ll get Daddy’s if you’ll play for us.”
“I hear Grant does a fair job of playing and singing.”
“Singing?” Johnny let out a sound of disgust. “I’d sooner listen to a hog rooting in a mud hole.”
“I’ll tell you what, Johnny. I’ll play if you do the singing. Didn’t he treat us to a song the night of the storm, Henry Ann?”
“I think it was wishful thinking and not even a song,” Henry Ann said seriously. “It was something about walking his baby back home.”
“They’re all against me,” Johnny complained to Karen.
“Get the guitar and I’ll sing with you. I know ‘Walking My Baby Back Home.’” Karen’s cheerful laughter rang out.
Before Johnny could answer, a horse nickered, then a voice came from the end of the porch.
“We’re just in time for the party, sugar.” Pete Perry on his horse with Isabel perched behind came to a stop in the flower bed beside the front step. “Thanky for the invite, Cousin Henry Ann.”
“You’re not invited, and get that horse out of my yard.” Pete gave her a cheeky grin but showed no sign of moving. She jumped to her feet. “Get that horse out of my flower bed,” she ordered angrily.
“I know you’re glad to see me, sweet thing, but you don’t have to be so loud about it. You’ll scare little Rosie.” His eyes settled on Opal in the chair with Rosemary on her lap.
“Get the horse—”
Henry Ann cut off her words when Johnny snatched the hat from his head and whacked the horse sharply across the nose. The startled animal shied back and reared. Isabel screamed and clutched Pete around the waist. He cursed and worked to control the horse. Jay scooted behind Henry Ann and hid his face in her skirt.
“Get the goddamn horse out of her flowers,” Johnny shouted.
“Don’t get yore bowels in a uproar, boy,” Pete answered coolly. He guided the horse to the side of the house and dismounted. After lifting Isabel to the ground, he took his time and led the animal to the corral fence and tied him there. He put his arm across Isabel’s shoulders as they approached the house.
“That’s ice cream on the back porch or I miss my guess.” Pete grinned his cocky devil-may-care grin.
“You’re not invited to stay.”
“’Course I am, sugar. Me’n’ this here road bum got business to settle.” He jerked his head toward Grant, then ignored him and went to stand in front of Opal. “Didn’t know I’d get to see little Rosie.” He reached out a hand to pat the child and Opal slapped it away.
“Get away!”
“She’s a Perry. Betcha a dime against a doughnut she’s a Perry.”
“Leave her alone, Pete.” Chris got to his feet, his face red with anger.
“I ain’t forgettin’ I owe ya one,” Pete said to Chris without turning, his eyes still on Opal. Then to her, “Yore gettin’ prettier ever’day, sugar teat.”
“Come on, Pete, let’s go.” Isabel cast worried glances at Johnny, who remained standing, his arms folded over his chest, his narrowed eyes watching Pete.
“Not till I do what I come for, sugar,” Pete said in a chiding tone, then suddenly he whirled and charged Grant who was standing a couple yards away.
Pete went low into a crouch, swinging both fists high. One of them struck Grant’s left shoulder like a thrown brick. Taken by surprise Grant fell to the ground. He rolled over, but not before Pete slammed the toe of his boot into his ribs.
Johnny and Chris acted in unison. They jumped on Pete’s back and bore him to the ground. Grant got to his feet.
“Let him up. If he wants a fight, we’ll fight. But behind the house. Not here in front of the kids.”
“Get yore hands off me,” Pete snarled. Chris and Johnny backed off, and Pete stood up.
“Come on out back,” Grant invited. “That is, if you’ve got the guts to meet me head-on in a fair fight.”
“Don’t worry ’bout that,
Roady
.”
“Don’t fight, Pete,” Isabel pleaded. “They’ll gang up on ya.”
“Shut up and stay outta the way.”
“It’s all your fault!” Isabel turned on Henry Ann. “Ya wanted a man so bad ya took in that . . . tramp! Trash is what
you
are!”
“You’ve got a nerve calling me . . . trash!” Henry Ann retorted angrily.
Johnny grabbed Isabel’s arm, propelled her to the side of the house, and shoved her down.
“Sit there and shut up! Say one more bad thing about Henry Ann, and I’ll shut your mouth for you! You’ve not got a decent bone in your skinny body. You’re nothing but a . . . whore!”
“I won’t stay here!” Isabel tried to get to her feet. Johnny shoved her back down. She landed hard on her behind, her head bounced against the side of the house, and she burst into tears.
* * *
“Stay here, honey,” Chris said to Opal.
“I hadn’t ort to a come.”
“This has nothing to do with you.” Chris gave her a fleeting kiss and hurried toward the back of the house.
Aunt Dozie came out onto the porch and picked Jay up in her arms.
“Me’n Miss Opal’ll stay wid dese younguns right here. Yawl go on and see dat Mr. Grant don’ get hurt too bad. Dat Mud Creek trash is meaner dan a rattlesnake in a hot skillet.”
“That’s pretty mean, Aunty,” Karen said.
“It be de God’s truth.”
When Henry Ann and Karen passed Isabel sitting with her back to the house, her head on her knees, Henry Ann paused.
“Bitch! Bitch! I’ll have
all
the Perrys on you!” Isabel screeched, and kicked out at Henry Ann with her foot.
Henry Ann stepped out of the way, shook her head in disgust, and followed Karen past the cellar door to where Grant waited beneath the oak tree. He had removed his shirt and pulled on the leather gloves he used when he cut wood. Pete’s shirt lay across the saddle on his horse; he had gone to duck his head in the watering tank.
“Grant?” Karen was clearly distressed.
“You wanted me to knock out a few of his teeth the day of the air show. I’ll oblige you now.” Grant’s hard blue eyes swept past her to watch Pete.
“I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to do this.”
“I do. It’ll be all right. Trust me.”
“It isn’t that, but—” She was pulled away by Chris’s hand on her arm.
“Come on, Karen—”
“I heard that Pete fights dirty, Chris. I want to warn Grant.”
“Grant knows. If you and Henry Ann are going to watch, stay back by the house. Johnny and I will make sure the fight is fair.”
“Be careful,” Karen called, and feeling as if her heart would jump right out of her breast, backed away to stand beside Henry Ann.
Right away Grant could tell that, whatever else Pete was, he wasn’t a coward. And that he’d learned from experience that the man who struck the first blow had an advantage. He had powerful arms and shoulders. He came barreling in close, slamming and butting beneath Grant’s chin with his head. Grant managed to ram a fist into Pete’s ribs before he threw him off, but he knew that wasn’t how he could win the fight.
Pete charged in again, punching, driving, stomping on Grant’s instep when he got close. At first, Grant didn’t realize that Pete was basically a brawler or that anger was making him reckless. Grant took a few wicked punches, then retaliated by jabbing an elbow into the side of Pete’s face with such force that it cut to the bone. When his blood began to flow, Pete went berserk. His fists worked like pistons.
Every punch hurt Grant, but he bided his time, and when the opportunity came, he caught Pete square on the mouth with a hard, gloved fist. It smashed his lips back into his teeth, shook him to his heels, and stopped his rush. Grant was able to land a left and then, as he crouched, he swung a right to the split cheekbone that ripped the cut wider. Pete grabbed his arm to throw him to the ground, but Grant took him down with him.
Pete landed hard with Grant on top. Grant ground the man’s face in the loose dirt and had half smothered him before he suddenly jumped back and let him up. He wanted to whip him, not kill him.
Karen clutched Henry Ann’s arm with both hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wished over and over that she hadn’t chided Grant for not whipping Pete the day of the air show. Somehow she felt that this was her fault, and if Grant were injured, or badly scarred, she would never forgive herself.
Henry Ann appeared calm, but anxiety was making her ill. She was so totally consumed with what was happening that she was unaware of Tom’s presence until his hand touched her back. Her head jerked around, and she was looking into his face.
“What’s this about?”
“Pete came picking a fight. How did you—Where is she?”
“In that place where she goes sometimes. She’ll be all right for a while.” His hand continued to stroke her back as if he had to touch her.
“I’m afraid—” Henry Ann leaned back against Tom’s hand, seeking the comfort of his touch.
“Looks to me like Grant knows what he’s doing.”
When Pete came up off the ground, he staggered, wiped the dirt from his eyes, located Grant, and rushed. Grant put another fist to Pete’s mouth that shoved him back, then took advantage of the opening to land a stunning blow as Pete tried to come in again. Pete went down hard in the dust. He got to his hands and knees, then threw himself at Grant’s legs. A knee smashed him in the face, and he fell again, but rolled and slowly struggled to his feet.
BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]
9.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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